


Haunt Me

by deltachye



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Death, F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23818135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltachye/pseuds/deltachye
Summary: [reader x tobio kageyama]Look, I won’t pretend I understand it babe, the afterlife and allBut as you died you promised me that you would try to write or call—It’s been far too long that you and I have been aloneYou could rectify that if you haunt me through my phone![dw]
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio/Reader
Comments: 10
Kudos: 110
Collections: Gift Fics





	1. but as you died you promised me that you would try to write or call.

[haunt me - samsa](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GJ2RXS2rKXc)

* * *

“It isn’t fair…”

“I know.” He raised his hand, but it was so weak it trembled in the air before sinking back to the bed. Hurriedly you reached forwards to hold it, tugging it close to your face. His fingers, once so warm they used to feel almost hot to the touch, were cold and skeletal against your cheek. He opened his mouth to say something else before a haggard coughing fit fell over him, stealing his words away. It made your own chest ache to hear him like this. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. You _had_ to watch. Because even though it was killing you, the man you loved was dying, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

“Hey. Debi?”

Your eyes flashed in alarm. He hadn’t called you that nickname since… since how long ago? It had been a mistake, his clumsy Japanese tongue unused to the non-native syllables of your name. He’d just rattled something off and called it a day. Back then, you’d been pissed that he couldn’t put in the effort to learn your name. it wasn’t that hard, right? And if you really liked a girl, couldn’t you try a bit harder? But now your heart was swelling to bursting with adoration. God, you could barely even remember it. It panicked you that you weren’t remembering, because who knows when the last thing you’ll have of him are memories?

You realized with a jolt that he was still quietly staring up at you, expectant. Shakily, you kissed his fingertips.

“Yes, Tobio?”

“If… there’s an afterlife…”

You wanted to tell him ‘no’. Hearing the word cut you in half. You wanted him to stop right there, because obviously, he wasn’t _going_ anywhere. There’re just no ifs and no buts about it. He was the stubborn type and the both of you knew it. Anything he wanted, he got: and of course, that included you. You were here now. You’d always be _here_ , with him. But if you were here and he was _over there_ , then what the hell was the point of anything at all? But you held your tongue, because… who knows? Every second, you have to wonder in dread.

Who knows if this is the last memory you’ll get?

“Then…” He heaved for breath, sweat trickling down his pale brow. His voice was grating in his throat, but he forced out the words, swallowing thickly. With the nasal prongs he sounded like an entirely different person. He didn’t sound like your Tobio, the one you loved oh so dearly, the one who melts your vanilla ice cream heart—but you listened intently to this Tobio, sick and dying Tobio, all the same. “I’ll find you. I’ll come back… to you.”

“Oh, Beloved…”

His thumb nudged a tear from your nose. You weren’t the religious type, and neither was he. But if believing in something might make it just a little bit true, then you’d throw yourself into it. You’d give anything for it.

“I swear… it. So just… wait… for…”

“Okay,” you interrupted softly, not wanting him to struggle for air anymore. You nodded into his touch, closing your eyes, sniffling wearily. When you reopened your eyes, his blue eyes were unfocused in your direction. You kept his hand tightly tucked against your skin so that you might warm him from the outside in. So that he couldn’t forget that you were here. You squeezed his wrist. “I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait forever if I have to. Because I love you. Okay?”

“Mm,” he groaned, sounding somewhat relieved. His eyelids slid shut like that had been what he was waiting for and he couldn’t hang on any longer.

“Tobio?” you breathed. You let go of his hand and watched it drop limply onto the bed. You shook his arm. No response. He looked like he’d fallen asleep. “Hey. Tobio. _Hey_.”

People ran into the room, hauling a giant cart. Something was blaring in your ear. White coats fluttered like Easter lilies. Somebody bumped into you, jostling you out of the way. There was yelling. They were tearing open his gown—how dare they touch him like that? You had to say something. Throw your body over his to protect him from these people. But then somebody was pulling you away from him, their rough arms looping around your waist to haul you away. _No_. You couldn’t just leave him. He didn’t have anybody else at his side but you—how could you go? Your head was spinning. Spinning. Spinning the ring around your finger. Dizzy. _He’s gone. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing we can do._ Petals flying, dead in the wind. _For the funeral arrangements, would you please…_ Numb. Cold. It was winter; you hate winter. There’s death in winter. Frost froze in the teary dew of your eyelashes. _I’m sorry for your loss._ You had to wait for him by his side. You couldn’t be here. You had to be there.

You clutched the bouquet of sunflowers—the ones he always loved to give you—like they were his hands at the altar. You remembered that day so well. There were so many memories of him, scattering, flying… they’re like fragile petals in the wind. If you don’t catch them, they’ll fly away forever. But it’s okay. You had vowed then, and you were vowing it now. Gently, you let go, placing the flowers over his grave. **Kageyama Tobio.**

He hadn’t gotten the chance to say it back to you before he died: _I love you, too_. Stupid man left you hanging. How dare he? So, you’d just have to wait so you could hear it from his own lips.

You’d wait until you died.

**_and i've been waiting ever since._ **


	2. i've been so lonely since you died.

**But now I’m at a fucking loss, cause honey, nothing seems to work  
Like I’ve been astrally projecting my body beyond my dreams  
Through the fabric of space and time  
So you could me spot me at the seams**

It’s been about half a year since Tobio died, and now you’re pissed.

Are you stupid for waiting around for something that may never come? It feels like you’ve ordered a package off some sketchy site. You’ve bet all in on wishful thinking. He promised you that he’d come back, yes, but he was also delirious and (as much as you loathe to remember it) dying before your eyes. In that kind of position, outlandish deathbed blabbering is kind of expected. You’d like nothing more than to believe in the purity of soulmate attraction, but honestly, how is this going to work? Do you wait for reincarnation to kick in? No _way_ are you going to sit around and twiddle your thumbs until some baby Tobio aged up. Do you wait ‘till the next life over? Great—what about this life? That’s a lot of damn waiting considering you want him back _now_. 

Seances. Occultism. Good old-fashioned fountain wishes at 11:11. You know to keep your sudden obsession with ghosts on the down low since you don’t need people fretting over your sanity when you know full well you’ve already lost your mind a long time ago.

True love does that to you. 

Besides, you promised him to his face that you’d wait forever if you had to, and you’re not the type to half-ass things. You’d said your vows when you got married. ‘Till death? Fat chance was he getting away from you that easily. He was going to get one hell of a lecture whenever you reunited with him, but it was going to be worth it regardless. All he had to do was come back.

Never thought it’d happen on a Buzzfeed quiz about “What kind of bread are you?”

“Are you fuckin’ _serious_?” you muttered irritably, slapping your phone screen as if that would make your internet connection work better. The lag was abysmal despite the fact that you had full bars. This had to be one of those corporate ploys to get you to buy the new phone, right? God, you hate capitalism. You were about ready to give up and put your phone away when you saw it:

 **What nickname did your friends give you?**  
A. Know-It-All  
B. Mean Girl  
C. Crackhead  
D. Debi

This is getting kind of deep for a questionnaire about bread. Your heart leapt into your throat and you nervously tapped D with your thumb. That had to be some weird typo. Something that you were just imagining. That’s all it is. You were just missing him so much that you’ve started to hallucinate things and make a big deal out of n—

 **You got: I’;m hoMe, idiot.,;!**

“ _Yes_!” you screeched, about throwing your phone into the air. People in the break room stared. What were you doing sobbing over a picture of bread?

**And if the gods of death oppose our harmless want to reconvene  
Then maybe we could sneak you by 'em if you haunt me through a screen?**

It’s rough times in the afterlife when you don’t have LTE, apparently. Tobio can manage to talk to you, but only through electronics. It’s some kind of spiritual energy bullshit you don’t really quite understand, and you know his dumbass doesn’t, either. You haven’t gotten to hear his voice yet, so the two of you have to struggle to work with an open notes file. His typing is slow and abysmal, like it’s always been in life, and you find yourself pacing rivets into the floor just to receive a dry text like “How are you”. He’s never been good at this. But it doesn’t even matter—he can “cool” you all he wants. _He’s back_. Your Tobi.

Sometimes he feels more present in the times you aren’t trying to actively communicate. The lights flicker warmly around you when you pass them. It’s like magic. When you swallow your pride and give the Stranger Things Christmas light bundle a shot, it’s like his warmth is seeping back to you, broad arms encircled around your body to shelter you. It’s like spring washing over you. You can almost hear him whispering into your ear, hoarse as he struggles to keep his voice down: 

_I love you._

No, it’s not enough. It’s not enough to lie in the bed alone, your own warmth diffusing out the sheets, hopelessly searching for the body it yearns for. It’s not enough to press your fingers against your laptop screen, only able to hope that he’s reaching back at you. Your lips miss him dearly. He’s always been a clumsy kisser, but you miss even the slobbery ones. Death has been and always will be forever. Your Tobi will never be alive again; at least, not in this life time. Every reminder is heartbreaking and winds you as badly as the first. Still, it’s something more than nothing, and beggars can’t be choosers.

If only you could go to him, the way he was trying to reach you. You’d considered it, morbidly. Committing… you know. But he’d never forgive you, and you’d never forgive yourself. If there was anything the moron loved more than volleyball, it was your happiness, and you wouldn’t find it by blindly traipsing over to the other side. Still, it’d be nice to go on dates again that don’t involve you turning off Ad-Block so that he could scramble some text in ads about hot Russians in your area. They’d gotten more and more comfortable the longer the two of you were together. Once upon a time you’d get dressed up all fancy and go to expensive dinners and be treated like a princess by the clumsy country bumpkin attendant. Though the time spent eating Taco Bell with him in the car, laughing over him attempting to sing like Maroon 5, was just as precious. You’d like to cozy up next to him by the river Styx with messy finger sandwiches. Actually—a picnic would be fun. The weather was nice, and you didn’t have much else to do.

 **im going to ur grave later to clean it. what offerings do u want?** You texted with one hand, juggling the laundry basket in the other. If anybody confiscated your phone, they’d see pages after pages of notes of you talking to yourself like a new-age Jekyll and Hyde. 

**Pork curry.**  
**with the egg? lmao. can u even eat it?**  
**I don’t think so… but bring two bowls. You should have some.**  
**ur such a gentleman**  
**Really? Thanks**

You smiled at his earnestness. He was cute, even now.

**yeah, lover boy. ill bring u curry. wait for me?**

**Yes, I’ll wait.**

****

**It's been far too long that you and I have been alone  
You could rectify that if you haunt me through my phone**


	3. it's been far too long that you and i have been alone.

**But truthfully, if you can choose that way you're reborn**

The day was fairly cool with a gorgeous mix of blue skies and fluffy white clouds. The sun was warm on your cheeks. You tucked your hair behind your ear, rubbing the parts with faded dye between your fingers as you trekked through the graveyard. It’d been a while since you’d gotten your hair cut and it was starting to show. Maybe you’d book an appointment and ask Tobio what he thought? It’d been a while since you’d seen Miwa, too. As you walked, there was total silence besides the rustling of trees. It was empty, though not eerie. There’s some comfort in being alone when you aren’t lonely. You can feel his presence, after all.

Kageyama Tobio. You stopped in front of his tombstone, knowing where he was without even having to look. Your feet remembered the path well. He was beside Kageyama Kazuyo, his beloved grandfather. You realized that Miwa must’ve been here recently, the ash of the incense holder already cleaned out. Fresh flowers were potted beside his photograph—white lilies. He wasn’t the type to be into flowers, but they were beautiful. His big sister always loved to spoil and tease him. You crouched down and examined the letter with something scrawled on the front, smiling faintly as you recognized her handiwork. Both siblings had atrocious handwriting. You still had his letter to you tucked safely under your pillow, after all.

“You were loved,” you whispered fondly, running your hand along the stone like you might reach up to caress his face.

_Were?_

Your hand froze while tracing the strokes of the mountain character. Funny, that sounded a lot like him in your head. He’s only been communicating with you through screens so far, but you know him so well that anything you read, you read in his voice. The sullen one he uses when a cat turns him away despite his best efforts. The boisterous yell he’s got when he scores a service ace. The hoarse, awkward whisper he reserves for your nights alone. You remember them all as they play endless loops in your head. A shiver trickled down your spine despite the lack of cold, like fingertips dancing along the ridges.

“Yeah,” you whispered, staring hard at the rings on your hand. The gold band that he’d given you rested heavily on your finger. “I mean, you went and died. I’m still not really over that, y’know? It’s kind of a dick move to pull on your wife. Idiot.”

You grinned at yourself sardonically when only the wind answered. Of course. First you talk to ghosts through porn ads, and now you’re talking to yourself. Which is crazier? You sat down heavily, cross-legged, shrugging off your tote bag to pull out the things you’ve brought. First, you put up your flowers beside Miwa’s. You still remembered a thing or two from your high school flower arrangement classes. You’d gotten so many requests for corsages and bouquets from your friends, and they were all so fun to make. A smile rests on your lips for the cherished memories. Still, the only one that had been _special_ to you was the request you’d gotten from the outstanding Tobio himself. At first, you’d been haunted by jealousy, wondering bitterly why _you_ had to put together flowers for whichever person had actually caught his fancy outside of volleyball. He’d been so flustered and red in the face about it that you were inspired and chose the classic flower of romance—red roses. Good for him, you thought, though it hurt worse than a rose thorn in the thumb.

Well. You call him an idiot, but _you’d_ been the stupid one there, having those roses handed right back to you. _These are for you,_ he’d mumbled gruffly. So much for Uno reverse. He could’ve just said so in the first place and saved you a lot of grief. But of course, he’s got to be roundabout and late on the uptake. It wouldn’t be him if he wasn’t.

_You didn’t bring the egg._

“No, because I forgot I was out and was too lazy to go grocery shopping today.” You rolled your eyes as you undid the Tupperware lid, laying out the bowls in front of you. “It was already enough work to make the pork curry how you like it. Besides, you can’t even eat it, so what’re you mad about?”

_The egg’s the best part!_

“Yeah, yeah.” You doled out a portion for him, bigger than your own. “Sorry, Tobi.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

You froze. There was a shadow stretching out in front of you—one that didn’t _belong_ to you. Somebody was standing behind you. Miwa? You let out a sigh of relief as you turned around.

“Hey. I missed y—!”

The words (for lack of better vocabulary) completely died in your throat. The Kageyama in front of you sheepishly carded a hand through jet-black hair.

“I… missed you too.”

**We'll get started when you're ready**

“What the fuck!?” you shrieked, having enough common sense to know that when you start seeing dead people, it’s not a good sign. You knocked things over in your haste to scramble away from him, nearly tripping onto your face. He was just standing there—he, _him_!?—hands in trouser pockets like nothing had ever happened. The black suit and tie didn’t match his stiff posture. You watched him grimace as you cowered behind his tombstone, gripping it like you might his broad shoulders.

“Uh… hey, [Name].” He scratched his head again, staring emptily at his feet. “I didn’t know what to say. Sorry for scaring you.”

“You… _you_ …” Your head was completely empty. Your fingers loosened their grip on the stone as the panic bled away to confusion. Shakily, you took a deep breath. “Is it… really you?”

“It’s really me.” He reached out a hand. Breathlessly, you returned the gesture, your hand trembling in the air. You hesitated, but then closed your eyes and placed your fingers against his palm.

“Oh my god!” You jumped back, drawing your icy cold fingers to your chest. He winced.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I can’t warm them up anymore.”

“But—you—I thought… I thought you couldn’t… _what_?” You didn’t have the words, hugging yourself tightly as you crept back out from behind your hiding space. He stayed glued in place, watching you hesitantly toe towards him.

“I can’t leave my grave site,” he admitted matter-of-factly. “So I can talk to you and stuff, but I only just managed to get a body people can see.” He brushed his shirt off self-consciously, looking down at himself. He shot a glance up to you before looking back down at the ground. “You look… um, you look good.”

“Okay,” you replied numbly. Once again, you reached out, cautiously brushing his tie. It felt like real silk. You laid your hand on his chest. The cold felt like he was a perfectly beautiful ice sculpture—but it was physical. _Present_.

“You’re still dead, right? Like, this is just a ghost?” you questioned sharply. Guiltily, he looked away, his eyes—a blue like where the ocean meets sky—sad.

“Yes.”

“Okay. But you can… be seen now. And I can touch you. Right?”

He perked up excitedly, sensing that you seemed to be less angry. “Yes.”

“Wow,” you breathed. The tears that you’d fought hard to hold back welled in your eyes. Panicked, he noticed, reaching out before you could say anything else. His hands were uncomfortably icy against your skin, but he carefully wiped the hot tear from your cheek with his thumb. His palms were huge and just like you remembered. It coaxed a breathy sigh of relief from your lips.

“I’m sorry it took me this long,” he whispered lowly. “I wanted to let you see me for so long. I’ve been able to follow you everywhere you go, but you couldn’t hear me, so… I guess I’ve just been watching over you.”

“You’ve been with me all the time?” you asked, surprised by it. You thought that he’d been in and out of the mortal realm, especially since it took him forever to even manage a sentence on your phone. No wonder you’d felt so comforted, even when you were alone… he’d been there all this time, hadn’t he? All that time you spent sitting, waiting, wishing—he had _been there_.

“Yes. Even when you shower—!” He paused his proud declaration, realizing the implication, his pale skin flushing red. Rose red. Despite the blush, his hands were cold, and he hastily pulled back. You grabbed his fingers before he could and clutched them to your heart, feeling no warmth pass to him. But his hands were here. They felt the thud of your heart. He was _here_ with _you_.

“Oh my god,” you cried, full-out bawling. “I missed you so much, you _stupid_ …! You dumb…!”

“Yeah. I know.” He reached out with a free hand, brushing your hair back out of your face as tears flooded your face. It slipped down your back, gently nudging you into an embrace. You curled up against his chest, sobbing shamelessly as you kept his right hand pressed to your chest. “I know.”

“Ugh! I _hate_ you!” You punched him the chest with a free hand, only lightly. He caught it and pressed your palm to his own chest. There was no heartbeat to be felt, but the blood rushing through your ears could make up for his lack of pulse. His words vibrated against your fingers like the threads of a guitar chord.

“Yeah. I know.”

“Can you—” You jerked back, your brain whirring as you tried to put two and Z together. “Wait. Can other people see you? Am I just talking to myself?”

“Not yet,” he replied sombrely, looking frustrated. “Miwa didn’t, so I was really surprised that you could. But maybe one day people might be able to see me too.”

“But you can’t leave.” You eyed the tombstone at your side warily. He shrugged.

“Not yet. I’ll make it work, though.” Seriously, he met your eyes. “I want to be with you. Nothing’s going to stop me. Not even death.”

“…you’re really hopeless, aren’t you?” You threaded your fingers through his. “Didn’t you say it yourself? You’ve _always_ been with me. I know you have.”

“I…” Bashfully, he played with your fingers, looking down. “I wanted to tell you that it’s okay for you to move on without me. I figured that you’d be happier if you stopped thinking about me and found somebody else.”

“Oh.” It shattered your heart to hear him say that after everything you’d been through. You opened your mouth to say something, to _protest_ , but then you saw his jaw working. He always struggled to express his feelings. So, patiently, you waited.

“But I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Every time I tried… I can’t… just thinking about you with somebody else…!" He winced visibly before returning his eyes to yours, guiltily, like he’d been scolded. “Is it selfish of me?

You let go of his hand and promptly thwacked him upside the head. “ _Obviously_! You’re dead, remember!? Of course it’s selfish!”

“Yes,” he grumbled miserably, clutching his forehead. “It’s hard to forget.”

Then you re-extended your hand, watching his brow knit with confusion. You pointed to the wedding band.

“Look, I get where you’re coming from. If it were me, I’d want you to be happy, too. But I married you for a reason. And…” Suddenly shy, your voice dropped to a whisper. “ _I love you._ I always have, and I always will. I won’t—I _can’t_ move on. I’m crazy about you. So you don’t have to worry, okay? Just wait for me.”

He took your hand. His fingers delicately ran over the gold band, causing you to shiver with the cold. But you liked—no, you loved it. It was his touch, after all. His fingers. His hand. His ring. And you were his, too. Always and forever.

“I’ll wait for you,” he murmured seriously. You smiled through your tears, which had yet to go away. Sniffling, you squeezed his hand.

“Okay. Then… let’s eat.”

“You knocked it all over. Also, I can’t eat. I tried.”

“Seriously?” You stared at the curry splattered across his tombstone, cringing at the thought of clean-up. “Oops. Ugh. I spent so much time on that! Damn it.”

“Stupid.” He ruffled your hair endearingly. You grinned.

“No, you.”

“Oh. Before I forget.” His hand slipped from the top of your head to your chin. You felt the exact path of his touch tracing over the landmarks of your face. And then you felt the cold of his lips over yours, a kiss clearer than the snap of a frozen-over lake. You really _felt_ it, thudding comfortably in your heart. Your Tobi.

Happily, you melted into him.

**No, I don't want to deal with voodoo dolls and figurines  
I could do without them if you'd ~~haunt me through my screen~~ _come back home to me._**

**Author's Note:**

> deltachye.tumblr.com


End file.
